


Love Trium-plus

by Dancezwithwolvez



Series: Mystrade Drabbles [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Don't copy to another site, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Protective Greg, Vulnerable Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 13:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21198158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancezwithwolvez/pseuds/Dancezwithwolvez
Summary: They say love cannot be expressed in words. But can it be expressed in numbers ?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a ton to Lavenderandvanilla for letting me chew her head off. 
> 
> Amyandjake4ever what can I say!!! You are a star as always. 
> 
> Even though the story doesn't have smut, the story gets a Mature rating because of the abusive relationship in the story.

It was a warm Friday evening in the Holmes household. The wood crackled in the fire place and the wind whooshed outside, making the branches patter on the window.

But Mycroft and Greg were beyond caring of what was happening outside in the world when they were in each others' arms.

It started out as Mycroft leaning his head on Greg's shoulder seeking a kind of warmth that no amount of woolly jumpers gave him. Only Greg did.

It gradually progressed to Greg running his fingers through Mycroft's hair, disturbing the carefully arranged auburn curls, finally ending in Mycroft landing on his back, taking Greg with him.

This was Mycroft's favourite place in the world. Under Greg. He was safe. He was happy. He was free. Nothing could make this moment more perfect. Maybe a ring. But right now he was happy as he was.

* * *

Greg loosened a button on Mycroft's shirt and the mere sight of his collarbones was enough to make his trousers uncomfortable.

The sprinkling of freckles on his shoulder and clavicle and the scatter of soft ginger chest hair were the reasons Greg couldn't concentrate all day. It was all Mycroft's fault that the coffee spilled on his shirt. It was his fault that he had walked on Anderson's foot without turning back to apologize. It was Mycroft's fault that he couldn't for the life of him understand what Sally was talking and as a result came up with just a _ 'ngkkk' _ as an answer to her question. And it was Mycroft's fault that Sally left her boss' room, shaking her head fondly at the besotted individual.

Greg was terribly, hopelessly and madly in love with the man beneath him. He couldn't stop looking at the man, currently squirming and blushing furiously beneath him.

The blue eyes, the soft ginger curls, the kind heart, the softness around the waist, the mile long legs, the endless pale neck were all the things that made Greg's Mykie.

As he peppered kisses on his jaw, Greg breathed, "You are gorgeous. Do I say that enough?"

"Lesser than yesterday,'' came the reply. Mycroft with his eyes closed, enjoying the moment, was unaware of what he had said.

Greg continued the conversation, " Do you keep a count?"

"Obviously", resembling a lot the Holmes brother Greg would rather not think of right now.

A soft and brief chuckle out of Greg's mouth brought Mycroft back to Earth and made him aware of what he had said.

Mycroft tensed strangely in Greg's arms. The tension in his body was not borne out of pleasure, it was rather fear. Hiding his face in the crook of the neck, Mycroft started apologizing profusely.

Confused as to what was happening below him, Greg tried to extricate himself from the stronghold clasp of Myc's hands but to no avail.

"Myc, darling. What happened?"

"I am so sorry Greg. I am very, very sorry. Please forgive me."

"What are you apologizing to me for, love?"

Greg begged, "Please, Myc. Talk to me. It's just you and I here."

* * *

The vulnerability in Greg's voice made Mycroft look into his face. The eyes that looked at him held nothing but love and affection. The face was etched with concern _ for him _ . The eyes flashed love _ for him _. Maybe Greg wouldn't mind. But he couldn't be too sure.

* * *

There was a storm brewing behind those blue eyes. Mycroft looked 10 years younger. He held a fragile and brittle expression on his face that could be broken with a single misuttered wrong syllable.

Greg had to tread carefully. The Holmes brothers were never experts on matters of the heart. They had to be guided- patiently, with hands grasped tightly- showing them that you won't ever leave them.

Luckily Greg was an expert. Mycroft and Sherlock had both travelled these roads and emerged successfully with Greg by their side. And today would be no different.

Greg tugged Mycroft to sit up straight and pulled him onto his lap. Once they were comfortably situated he looked up to find a scared pair of eyes. He looked into them, asking them softly to let go of their fear. It seemed to work, as Mycroft was beginning to let go of the tension.

Greg continued to look into those eyes and kissed the soft lips. This was not a passionate kiss. No. This was just a kiss of affirmation, telling Mycroft that he would be here no matter what. The tension seemed to be reducing. The kiss, in addition to the comforting sweeping strokes on Mycroft's back made him feel more confident and more comfortable with his emotions.

Greg continued to do that for a period of time and Myke felt comfortable playing with the hairs on the bottom of Greg's nape. Mycroft was still hesitant to look at him but he had relaxed.

Greg took one of Mycroft's hands into his and kissed each finger and then finally twining them and placing it on his chest, where his heart was. The steady rhythm helped Mycroft to gradually meet Greg's eyes.

Greg started out slowly, "Trust me, beautiful. This is _ your _ Greg." He placed a kiss on their twined fist.

" Take your time beautiful. This is _ your _ safe haven. You have all the freedom and all the love the world can offer here. No judgements. No insults. Only love."

Mycroft nodded, taking in each word to the heart. He laid his head on Greg's shoulder and continued to play with the soft silver hair.

Greg could hear the gears shifting, the wheels turning in Mycroft's head. He would give him time.

After several minutes, he heard a voice so low, that it could be lost by the slightest shift of air.

" I had a boyfriend when I was in University. My very first one."


	2. Chapter 2

_ Mycroft had outgrown his chubbiness and was now a lanky, freckled, ginger-haired precocious teenager. He was the youngest in his class and as a result the most bullied too. Mostly for his elite dressing style and sometimes for his prodigious mind.  _

_ Charles had come like a knight in shining armor during one such bullying.  _

_ "Hey! What is happening here? Leave him alone." _

_ Charles had a charismatic personality. People listened to him when he talked. It was the reason students had elected him as the Class President.  _

_ Out of fear of getting caught the bullies let go of Mycroft's collar and scrammed away. The sudden loss of grip on his collar made him lose his balance and he fell down, scraping his elbow.  _

_ Charles came running towards him. He knelt down and took his scraped elbow gently, examining the wound.  _

_ "An antiseptic to clean the wound and a bandage should fix you in no time." _

_ Mycroft could only nod blankly. He was thrilled to be the focus of the Class President. The person he loved to look upon from afar - Charles Green. Charles was handsome. Everybody said that the green-eyed handsome blond haired man had a swimmers body. He was everything Mycroft was not- everything Mycroft aspired to be. _

_ Charles took Mycroft's hands in his and applied the medication and looked at him with a smile. "You are very brave, aren't you? You didn't even wince when I applied it." _

_ Mycroft could only blush.  _

_ "You are quite scared of them, aren't you? They are ruffians, I tell you. But don't worry. I will protect you. Just stick by me and you will be safe "  _

_ Mycroft wanted to protest saying that he wasn't weak. He was strong. He was smart. But only air escaped his mouth.  _

_ In the months to come, Charles and Mycroft were inseparable. Charles used Mycroft for completing all of his Mathematics assignments, and in return offered his protection from the class bullies.  _

_ Little did Mycroft know that the reason he was being bullied in the first place was the man standing next to him.  _

_ One day, when they were sitting under a big birch tree, Charles suddenly placed his hands on Mycroft's jaw and kissed him. Taken aback by the sudden movement, Mycroft pushed him back and Charles landed flat on the ground.  _

_ Enraged, Charles yelled, " _ ** _Is this how you repay me? I do so much for you and you can't even kiss me back. You are an ungrateful bastard, you know."_ **

_ "Charles, I do want to kiss you back. I was just taken aback. I am so sorry. Can we do that again? If it pleases."  _

_ "Alright", he replied gruffly, "only because you are asking me too."  _

_ That kiss was the start of an abusive and manipulative relationship.  _

_ Naïve Mycroft was just happy to be in a relationship. And with the most popular boy in the University. He felt the relationship was the perfect comeback for all the taunts and insults he was subjected to when he was chubby prepubescent boy, by his cousins and Sherlock. He felt lucky to be cherished and to be needed.  _

_ Charles would force Mycroft to do things he was not comfortable.  _

_ "I love you so much Mycroft. And this is how you show me your love. I feel so used , Mycroft. So used."  _

_ Charles loved him . Charles  _ ** _loved_ ** _ him. Charles loved  _ ** _him. _ ** _ _

_ " Please Charles, I love you too. I just need some time." _

_ " Mycroft, I have given plenty of time for you. Clearly I more invested in this relationship than you are. I will leave you to your books because you are capable of loving just inanimate objects."  _

_ Mycroft took Charles' hand in his own and begged him to stay. Told him he would do anything for him. Told him he didn't understand love and he would in due course of time, if Charles gave him the chance. _

_ That night was one of the most uncomfortable nights of his life. He had just had oral and anal sex. Charles had forced to keep his mouth open to come inside his mouth. He didn't like the taste of it but out of fear of enraging Charles he kept quiet.  _

_ The anal sex wasn't comfortable either. He was sore and was unable to sit or walk properly for a week.  _

_ The most he missed was the after sex part. Charles had left immediately after reaching his climax, leaving Mycroft physically and emotionally dry.  _

_ In the run up to the events, Mycroft had read several adult literature works and the thing he liked the most was the afterglow part. Where the partners coaxed each other gently from their orgasmic high. Where they kissed each other. Where they just listened to each other breathing, holding each other tightly.  _

_ This happened every time they had sex. Charles would be quite the charming, attentive boyfriend in the days leading to sex, telling him how much he loved, how much beautiful he was and would completely ignore him after the act was completed.  _

_ Mycroft wasn't overly happy about it but this was more than he had ever expected to get from his University life.  _

_ Mycroft had a loving boyfriend who looked out for him. The bullying had stopped completely. Nobody bothered him anymore. Everybody left him to his own devices. Except.  _

_ Charles demanded Mycroft leave everything for him whenever he wanted to have sex. As a result, Mycroft's grades were falling down. This was not helped by the fact that he was in pain all the time.  _

_ His Maths Professor called him into her study one day and told him, without mincing her words that Charles was using him. For academics. For getting off. For everything. She told him the relationship was not fruitful and it was just harming him.  _

_ He walked to his dorm room that night, contemplating. One half of his brain was completely supportive of his teacher's opinions and the other half said that Charles was a good boyfriend- that he was helping him. He lay awake all night, trying to come to a solution. _

_ The solution came to him suddenly. He took out a piece of paper and wrote down the number of times Charles said "I love you" before and after sex. Mycroft had an eidetic memory and his brain had a habit of counting repetitive events. The times a pen clicked, the times the duster was used, the times the Headmaster yelled out  _ ** _You insufferable brats_ ** _ , the times Charles said I love you.  _

_ The results were glaring. Charles used to say " I love you",an average minimum of 25 times in the days leading to sex and an average maximum of only 6 per day after having sex. This meant that Charles loved him more before the act of sex and less after.  _

_ Was this really the truth? The numbers hurt him, it enforced Mrs. Smith's views even more. He couldn't rest. He had to confront Charles.  _

_ But Charles loved him. It was surely his fault, he would ask Charles and rectify it. Yes, that should be easy. He wanted to make Charles happy.  _

_ The next day after their classes got over, Mycroft rushed to Charles and took his hand.  _

_ " I would like to talk to you about something. In private. Do you have some time for me?" _

_ "What do you want to talk about Mycroft? I don't have much time. "  _

_ "I promise it won't take much of your time. Please. "  _

_ Mycroft lead him to the same tree where they had their first kiss.  _

_ "What is it Mycroft?" Charles was getting more and more irritated by the minute. Mycroft knew had to do this quickly.  _

_ "Charles, I noticed that you love me more in the days preceding sex and less afterwards. Can you please tell me why is that?"  _

_ "Oh yeah, how do you know?" Charles asked with a smirk on his face. _

_ Mycroft took out the paper in which he had done the calculations and showed it to Charles.  _

_ " _ ** _What the fucking hell is this Mycroft? Are you keeping a fucking count?"_ **

_ Mycroft took a step back, he was scared. He was a fool to talk about this. Why must he spoil every good thing that happened to him? _

_ Charles continued,  _ ** _"It is bad enough that you are inexperienced and I have to do all the work. Now you are a fucking freak. You are fucking retarded_ ** _ ."  _

_ "I am done, Mycroft. I am done. I have had it with your idiosyncrasies and I can't tolerate them anymore. I have shown you nothing but love and time and again you have just shown the opposite. I am tired, Mycroft. We are over, Mycroft."  _

_ "No, Charles. Please don't say that. I am sorry to have doubted your love. Please Charles." He took a step forward and caught hold of Charles' hand but Charles jerked it away. The force of the jerk was so hard that Mycroft fell down.  _

_ Charles tore the paper to pieces and threw it on a fallen Mycroft. He then in a fit of rage kicked Mycroft in the stomach and spat on him. Not even bothering to look at the mess of a human being he had left behind, Charles went on his merry way, whistling and twirling the book on his finger.  _

_ Mycroft lay there crying until the sun crossed the horizon. _


	3. Chapter 3

Mycroft told Greg that he had tried several times to apologize to Charles after that day but he wouldn't listen. Then one day, Charles was caught forcing a girl to give him a blowjob and he was expelled from the University. Mycroft had nothing but academics to turn to and the familiar comfort of Maths and Physics helped him forget Charles. But nothing could ever heal the wounds he had created. For a long time, Mycroft blamed himself for all that happened. 

Mycroft was sobbing profusely by the end of the recollection. 

Now more mature, he learnt how manipulative the entire relationship had been, but this did nothing to soothe his wounds. It had only aggravated it. The revelation that it was based purely on lust rather than love was too much for him to bear. 

He was not a person who could be loved. 

He had erected defences to prevent himself from falling in love again. Because where he was capable of falling in love, he was not equipped to be loved. 

But a silver haired detective inspector had come into his life and removed the walls brick by brick. For every brick removed, Mycroft would grow more, feel more safe, and the wounds would heal. Until today. 

Greg wouldn't kick him or spit on him, but he would definitely move out of his life. After all, why would  _ anybody _ want to be with him- a freak of nature. A man who quantified love, the most beautiful emotion to have ever existed. 

Greg would  _ definitely  _ end things with him. Seeing as it was Greg, this process would be quite gentle. 

Mycroft couldn't bear the thought of a world where Greg wouldn't be his.

He passed out, emotionally drained. 


	4. Chapter 4

Mycroft woke up to a chocolate gaze directed at him. It had nothing but love. He mapped out the jaw line from his eyes, ending back at the cheekbones. The stubble had gone from being prickly to being soft as a feather. The face smiled at him. He could feel himself smiling. 

As more and more of his consciousness trickled in, he became more and more aware of why he was laying on the sofa and Greg was kneeling on the rug. 

He started panicking again as he recalled the last thoughts he had before he passed out. 

* * *

Luckily this time Greg could see the eyes getting wider, the lips twitching a bit and his carotid jumping and he was able to avert a panic attack. 

"Deep breaths, love. Deep breaths. Come on. Follow my voice. Yes. There you are. Yes. That's my sunshine." 

Greg placed a quiet kiss on his forehead and then on his nose. 

Hearing about Mycroft's ex had been scary. He knew that Myke didn't have a good time in his previous relationship, but he didn't know the extent of it. 

Middle aged Mycroft was still learning. Greg was scared to know how dark and black the world must have been for a teenage Mycroft. How scared  _ Mycroft  _ would have been. To be rejected so brutally. 

Greg didn't know how to proceed. Right now, Mycroft only needed to hear two things. That he was loved and that Greg would stay. That was easy. 

Greg kissed him soundly on his lips "I love you Mycroft. I love every single part of you. Your mind. Your heart. Your body. I will continue to show you that as long as you will let me stay." 

Greg's heart died a small death when he heard the voice that came out of Mycroft- it was so broken and so small. Mycroft was shaking. Greg wrapped his arms around him- one circling his torso and the other cupping his head. 

"Y-you wo-won't leave."

" No baby. Why should I?"

"Because I am a freak. Because I am different. " 

Greg's heart nearly stopped when he heard the f- word. He had tried so hard and had finally successfully stopped his team from using that name on Sherlock. And now, Mycroft's ghosts had come to haunt him with  _ that  _ word. 

" Mycroft, I am taking that word away from you. I didn't want Sherlock to be called like that and I don't want you to call yourself that too." 

Greg kissed him soundly on his lips making sure that what he was saying got through to him loud and clear. "Mycroft, I love you because you are different. There is no fun being ordinary. We embrace each other's quirks, that is what relationship is, isn't it?"

Mycroft faintly nodded. 

"Besides it gives me a challenge", Greg nuzzled Mycroft fondly. 

" A challenge?" Mycroft's eyebrows were now reaching his hairline. 

"Yes. A challenge. You said your brain takes into account all repetitive activities. Yeah?" Greg was wearing a mischievous grin now. 

Mycroft nodded once more, confused as to where this conversation was going. 

Greg took Mycroft in his arms, stroking his back in a slow rhythmic motion, "So every night before we go to sleep, you tell me the number of times I have kissed, the number of times I have complimented you, the number of times I have said  _ I love you _ and I will try to one up, each of them, every single day." 

Mycroft looked at him with widened glossy eyes. 

"I am very competitive, Myc. I will expect it every single day. You get it?", Greg whispered seductively in his ears, nibbling his ear lobe gently. 

* * *

The blue of Mycroft's iris had been reduced to a thin rim. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to be loved by such a  _ competitive _ man.

The most he could manage was a teary smile reaching the corners of his ears.

* * *

Greg was wearing the most mischievous grin he could muster, "Now where were we? I believe you said, I had said  _ You are gorgeous _ lesser times than yesterday. Have to rectify that, haven't I? Let's see how many times I can make you call out my name by the end of the night. I will need an accurate score, love. "

* * *

Mycroft blushed a beautiful shade of red, nodding shyly. He didn't know how accurate he would be that night, seeing as Greg left him thoughtless and boneless almost every single time. 

* * *

Greg looked at Mycroft through hooded eyes before pouncing on him, 

"You ready?" 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any comments or suggestions please leave it in the comment box. Thanks for reading!!


End file.
